Inappropriate Friendships
by dustnik
Summary: Set in 1916. Thomas is drawn to a blind officer in his care. "Missing scenes" from Season 2, Episode 2.
1. Chapter 1

After two long years in the trenches, Corporal Thomas Barrow made the fateful decision to escape the horrors of war by welcoming an enemy shell. The bullet passed cleanly through his left hand, resulting in a considerable amount of blood and pain, but thankfully the injury got him out of the fighting. After being treated at a nearby field hospital, he was ordered to report to Major Clarkson back in Downton. He knew he owed this bit of good fortune to Miss O'Brien, although he didn't know how she had managed it. Upon arriving at the little cottage hospital, he was surprised to find Lady Sybil there working as an auxiliary nurse. She seemed genuinely happy to see him again and inquired after his hand. "It's not so bad, m'lady," he replied, not wishing to discuss it.

"I'm glad, but you must call me Nurse Crawley now, and I'll have to remember to call you Corporal Barrow."

Thomas smiled and gave her a little nod. He made his way around the beds filled with wounded officers, some badly burned or missing limbs. He had been instructed to change the dressings of a young lieutenant who was suffering from gas blindness. He spotted the man sitting up in his bed. "I need to change your bandages, sir," he spoke softly, not wishing to startle the sightless man.

The patient turned toward him quizzically. "I don't recognize your voice."

"I just came today, sir."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Corporal Barrow." Thomas deftly removed the rolls of gauze holding the bandages in place. A burn around the left eye seemed to be healing well with no sign of infection. "Everything looks good, sir."

The man laughed bitterly. "I'll have to take your word for it, Corporal."

Thomas finished applying the new dressings before taking his leave. He wished he could say something comforting to the young officer, but he knew that in all probability, Lieutenant Courtenay would never see again.

Over the next few days, he found himself drawn to the blind man's bedside. Sometimes he would read to him from the newspaper or letters from home, and at other times, they simply talked. The patient spoke about his days at Oxford and all the things he loved doing but would never do again. In turn, Thomas talked about working as a footman at the Abbey. It seemed like another world now. Occasionally, Sybil would join them, sharing stories of her life before the war.

As the weeks passed, Thomas noted the frequent visits from Tom Branson, Lord Grantham's Irish chauffeur. He would come bearing a message from Her Ladyship or a basket of food from Mrs. Patmore, but sometimes he seemed to be there for no reason at all. It soon became apparent that the driver was really there to see Sybil. That made him either very bold or very stupid in Thomas' eyes. If His Lordship had any inkling of it, he knew Branson would be immediately dismissed without a reference. He wondered if Sybil were aware of the chauffeur's feelings.

One day, she and Thomas were enjoying a break together. She suddenly remarked, "Lieutenant Courtenay seems to have really taken to you. I think you've been good for him."

Thomas was secretly pleased. He had become very fond of the injured officer.

"He asked me today what you look like."

"What did you tell him?"

She laughed prettily. "I told him you're short and fat and freckled, but he didn't believe me."

"I should hope not," Thomas said with fake indignation.

"So I told him you're tall, dark, and handsome."

"That's more like it." He casually changed the subject. "Will we be seeing Mr. Branson here today?"

The smile immediately left the young woman's face. "Why do you ask that?"

"He seems to come around a lot, that's all." Thomas tried to make his voice sound disinterested.

Sybil rose to leave. "I should get back to work now."

He knew he had overplayed his hand and made his way over to Lieutenant Courtenay's bedside. The officer had received a letter from home and was anxious to hear the news. "Would you mind terribly?"

"I'd be happy to, sir." Thomas opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. "It's from your mother." He read the note stating that someone named Jack intended to take over the farm.

"Stop."

"Who's Jack?"

The patient explained that he was a younger brother who planned to take his place. Thomas could see how much the news had upset him. He knew only too well the pain of being overlooked and tossed aside. He confided to the blind man that people had pushed him around all his life just because he was different.

"How? Why are you different?"

Thomas didn't elaborate. Instead, he encouraged the other man to fight back and stop being a victim. Lieutenant Courtenay's hand reached out for Thomas' knee, causing the Corporal to look up in surprise. Thomas placed his hand over the officer's and was gratified when he didn't pull away.

"I'm Edward, by the way."


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas was becoming increasingly concerned about Lieutenant Courtenay's melancholy. He had become protective of the young officer and considered him his special charge. One day after luncheon, he noticed the patient looking forlorn, sitting fully clothed on his bed, his blind eyes open but unseeing. Thomas approached him. "It's me—Corporal Barrow, sir."

"I know. I recognize your step."

"I thought you might like to go for a walk. It's a fine day."

Courtenay seemed frightened at the prospect. "Where?"

"Just outside." Thomas gently helped him to his feet and pressed a white stick into his hand.

"No!" The blind man threw the stick to the floor in revulsion. To accept the stick would be to accept his condition, and he wasn't ready to do that yet.

Thomas understood. "You can take my arm instead if you like, sir."

The officer agreed. "Alright." He reached out for Barrow's uniformed arm, and the two stepped out into the sunlight. They made their way slowly around the hospital, but the exercise seemed to tire the Lieutenant. "Could we rest for a bit?"

Thomas spotted a bench against a stone wall. He led the other man across the lawn and helped him find the seat. He then dropped down beside him and promptly lit a cigarette. "So how does it feel to be outside again, sir?"

"I always preferred the outdoors—before. And I wish you'd call me Edward."

Barrow hesitated. "I don't think Major Clarkson would approve, but since we're alone, I will. My name is Thomas."

"I know. Nurse Crawley told me," Edward informed him. "She seems very nice. Did you know her well when you worked at the Abbey?"

Thomas smiled wryly. "The young ladies of the house weren't encouraged to socialize with the footmen."

"She always has nice things to say about you."

"Lady Sybil is alright," he admitted grudgingly.

"Is she pretty?"

"She's pretty enough if you like that type."

Edward continued understandingly. "But she's not your type, is she?"

Thomas felt himself becoming uneasy as he always did when the questioning took this direction.

"It's alright, Thomas. I know."

He became angry. "What do you know? You don't know anything about me."

Edward waited for the storm to subside. "I _know_." He found the Corporal's good hand and gave it a squeeze.

"You—"

"Yes."

Thomas was too stunned to reply, so he retreated back into his official capacity. "We'd better get you back inside now, sir. You don't want to overdo it."

Edward sighed before slowly getting to his feet. As the two men approached the building, they heard voices around the corner. Thomas recognized the soft brogue of Tom Branson, and the woman's voice was undoubtedly Sybil's. He stopped in his tracks, placing a warning arm in front of Edward, and listened carefully.

"Will I see you later?" the chauffeur asked.

"I don't know if I can get away. Granny and Cousin Isobel are coming for dinner, and Aunt Rosamund is staying."

"I miss you." He added, "You know the only reason I stay on at Downton is to be with you."

"You mustn't say that."

"I mean it. I love you, Sybil, and I want to be with you. Please, come to me tonight."

"I'll try, but I have to get back to work now."

They heard the door close and the sound of Branson's footsteps walking away. Edward frowned. "That wasn't very gentlemanly of you, Corporal."

Thomas was too shocked by the exchange to reply. "Let's get you back to bed now."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Thomas and Edward were sitting alone in the garden once again, having completed another turn around the hospital. Edward asked, "What was that about yesterday with Nurse Crawley and the Irish gentleman?"

Thomas scoffed at his use of the word "gentleman." He explained. "Mr. Branson is Lord Grantham's chauffeur. His Lordship would hit the roof if he had heard him."

"Why didn't you let them know we were there?"

Thomas didn't answer. He liked knowing other people's secrets.

Edward changed the subject. "Did you grow up around here?"

Barrow shook his head before remembering that the Lieutenant couldn't see him. "No, I'm from Manchester. My father had a clock shop there, and we lived above it."

"I couldn't live in a city. I loved growing up on the farm, seeing the animals and walking the fields. There's a small pond where my brother, Jack, and I would fish in the summer and skate in the winter." He smiled at the recollection. "In the fall, we would pick apples in the orchard, and our cook would make the most delicious pies."

"It sounds like a great life," Thomas opined wistfully.

"What are your plans for after the war? Will you go back to work at the Abbey?"

Thomas took a long pull from his ever-present cigarette. He didn't think old Carson would take him back, even if he wished to return. He had only escaped being sacked by turning in his notice first. "I haven't thought about it yet. With my hand the way it is, I can't manage anything too physical."

"You never did tell me what happened."

He didn't want to talk about it, especially to someone who had lost his eyesight for king and country. He would be too ashamed, and he didn't think the other man would understand.

Edward sensed his reticence. There seemed to be a lot of things about Thomas that he kept hidden. "Why didn't you say anything yesterday when I told you about myself?"

"You caught me off guard, that's all."

"Because the thing is, I really do like you." The officer looked very young and vulnerable at that moment. "And I was thinking maybe you could come back to the farm with me."

Barrow looked at him quizzically. "As a footman, you mean?"

Edward laughed. "We don't need any footmen, Thomas. You could be, uh—my nurse."

"Nurse?"

"Well, my companion then. I'm going to need someone to help me when I get home."

Thomas was dumbfounded. He had always dreamed of sharing a home and building a life with a man he cared about, never believing it was possible, and now he was being given that chance. He knew he should jump at the offer, but something held him back. He didn't want to get his hopes up only to be left discarded and gutted once again.

Edward took his silence for rejection. "But maybe you'd rather not spend your time caring for a blind man."

"It's not that. I just have to think about it. Now we'd better go back inside if you're ready."

Edward looked defeated. It wasn't the reaction he had hoped for. Maybe the Corporal's interest in him was purely professional, and he had misread the signs.


	4. Chapter 4

The following day, Thomas took his lunch outside. Sybil spotted him from a window and promptly joined him. She spoke first. "Now that he's well enough to be up and about, don't you think it's time that Lieutenant Courtenay learns to use a stick?"

Thomas shook his head. "He's not ready. I tried the other day, and he didn't react well. I don't think he's really come to terms with it all yet."

"Then we must help him to. He needs to be as independent as possible."

He couldn't tell her he liked the fact that Edward relied on him. It made him feel good to be needed by someone, but he saw the truth in her words and vowed to try again. Looking up, he spotted a green-liveried figure in the distance. "Isn't that Mr. Branson heading this way?"

Sybil turned in the direction of his gaze. "He probably has a message for me from Mama."

"Or he wants to declare his undying love for you again."

"What?"

"I overheard what he said the other day."

She became angry. "Were you eavesdropping on our private conversation?"

"I'm not sure how private it was. Lieutenant Courtenay heard it too."

"You should have let us know you were there."

Thomas smiled slyly. "It wouldn't have been very gallant to interrupt such a tender love scene." He added casually, "I wonder what Lord Grantham would say."

"Why? Are you planning to tell him?" Without waiting for a reply, Sybil rose and stormed off to meet the chauffeur.

Thomas watched her go, and after finishing the rest of his meal, he returned to work. After bathing several of the men and redressing their wounds, he was finally able to make his way over to Edward. Before he could speak, the Lieutenant said, "I thought you were avoiding me."

"Of course not, but how did you know it was me?"

"I keep telling you, I recognize the sound of your footsteps." He added, "I want to write a letter to my family. I want to tell them about you."

"About me?" Thomas asked in amazement.

"I'll tell them that you're a former servant who was also wounded and looking for work. I'll say I offered you a job as my companion, and you'll be coming home with me."

"Haven't you forgotten something? I haven't agreed yet."

Edward frowned. "Are we going to sit in the garden today?"

"I have a better idea."

"What idea?"

"You'll see." Thomas regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth, but the officer didn't seem to notice. He emerged from the hospital with a stick under his left arm and Lieutenant Courtenay tightly clutching his right. He removed the man's hand from his arm and handed him the stick.

Edward dropped the stick and turned angrily to Thomas. "I told you I don't want this."

Barrow handed it back to him. "You have to get used to it, that's all."

"No!" This time he hurled the stick to the ground.

Thomas merely sighed and picked it up once again, returning it to the other man. "When we get to the farm, I can't have you on my bloody arm all the time. Your family might get suspicious."

A slow smile spread across Edward's face. "Do you mean it?"

"I've made up my mind, and I'm going with you."


	5. Chapter 5

The following afternoon, Thomas assembled a few old bits of furniture in the garden. He positioned them carefully to form a narrow pathway for Edward to navigate through. Sybil joined the two men, the unpleasantness of the previous day forgotten. The Lieutenant appeared to be more hopeful than he had been previously and listened carefully as the pair peppered him with instructions.

Major Clarkson approached them and added his encouragement. He informed the officer that he was being discharged and would be sent to a place called Farley Hall for his rehabilitation. Edward's face immediately took on a look of panic. "But these two are helping me here," he pleaded. Clarkson explained that the staff of Farley Hall was specially trained to provide the type of care that he would need to adjust to his condition.

Thomas knew instinctively that sending Edward away now would be devastating to his recovery. The deep depression he had been under had just begun to lift. He started to voice his objection, but the Major quickly silenced him with an angry glare. "Corporal, I'll see you in my office."

Clarkson departed, leaving the other three grim-faced and silent. Finally, Thomas turned to Sybil. "I'd better go. Will you see that he gets back to his bed?"

"Of course, I will." She took the blind man's arm and began to lead him away.

Late that evening, Thomas pulled up a chair next to Edward's cot. Most of the other officers were already asleep, but the Lieutenant was wide awake and waiting anxiously. Barrow had been dreading this conversation since his meeting with the doctor earlier. Edward turned toward him, his face a picture of desperation. "Did you talk to him? Did you make him understand that I can't leave yet?"

"I tried, but he wouldn't listen. Nurse Crawley tried too. I'm sorry."

"What will I do without you?"

Thomas managed a painful smile and tried to make his voice sound playful. "You'll probably meet some big, burly orderly at Farley Hall and forget all about me."

"I won't forget you, Thomas. You'll still come to the farm, won't you? We're still going to be together?"

The Corporal felt the tears well up in his eyes. "I hope so, but for now, you need to concentrate on your rehabilitation while I stay on here. They've packed your things, so you're all ready to go in the morning."

Edward didn't reply.

Thomas squeezed his hand. "I'd better go now, so you can get some sleep." He rose to leave, taking one last look at the blind soldier before exiting.

The next day, Barrow reported for duty at his usual time. Immediately, he was aware that something terrible had occurred. Sybil was running into the ward with Major Clarkson in close pursuit. He followed them, his heart beating furiously. _Please, God, don't let it be Edward_ , he prayed, but one look in the Lieutenant's direction told him the whole story. The young officer's lifeless body lay still and white in his bed. The last of his blood dripped from his arm, forming a pool of deep red on the floor. Thomas felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs. He couldn't breathe or speak or even move. Edward was gone.

By now, the tragic news had spread throughout the hospital, and the other nurses and some of the ambulatory patients were gathering around the body. "Get away from him!" Thomas shouted, pushing his way roughly through the horde of onlookers. Most of the crowd dispersed, frightened by his expression of uncontrolled rage. He sat down gently on the officer's cot, gazing down on Edward's face for the last time.

Major Clarkson placed an understanding hand on Thomas' broad shoulder. "Take a break, Corporal."

"I don't want to leave him."

"That was an order, Corporal Barrow," the doctor said gently.

Thomas rose and hurried from the room. He stood in the corridor, his back braced against the wall. He felt himself slide slowly down the wall until he was crouched on the floor sobbing. After a while, he became aware that he wasn't alone. He looked up to find Sybil kneeling beside him, her kind, blue eyes brimming with sympathy. "You loved him, didn't you?"

He was too vulnerable at that moment to deny it. "I was going to live with him on his family's farm. We were going to have a life together, he and I, and now it's not going to happen, none of it."

"I'm so sorry, Thomas."

"Why did he have to go and top himself? We could have worked it out somehow."

"It wasn't your fault. Lieutenant Courtenay was depressed. It was probably the thought of leaving you that drove him to commit suicide. I know how much he cared for you."

He wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his good hand. "What must you think of me?"

"I don't believe loving another human being is ever wrong. We don't get to choose who we fall in love with."

"You're talking about Mr. Branson now, aren't you?"

"Will you keep our secret?"

Thomas nodded. He would never tell a soul.


End file.
